


Needs

by TheWincestRiots



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Post-Hell, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 07:33:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 884
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4129791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWincestRiots/pseuds/TheWincestRiots





	Needs

Everything was different after Hell. Dean was different. He tried so hard to keep a lid on it, to control himself, but it constantly threatened to bubble over.

He’d always felt things for Sam that he knew he shouldn’t feel, but it had never been like this. He’d felt guilty and sad and hated himself over it, but there had never been this jealous rage boiling under the surface. He wanted to lash out, kill anyone or anything that even dared to breathe too close to Sam, but more than that he wanted to hurt Sam, wanted to hear him scream and beg, push him to the very edge and pull him back, just to do it all over again. It sickened him at the same time as it excited him.

He knew Sam was hiding something, keenly felt the distance that had been between them since his return topside. The part of him that was still sane and rational thought this was a good thing, more distance would be even better. Sam shouldn’t be anywhere near him, not now. Another part of him wanted to punish Sam for whatever he was hiding, hurt him and lay him bare until there was nothing left but the truth between them. Pain was truth.

He fantasized about cutting into that smooth, tan flesh, the sweet whimpers and gasps that would come out of Sam before he would cry out, and Dean would soothe him with gentle kisses and soft words before twisting the knife just so. Thinking about it was the only way he could get off anymore, though he would almost always vomit and curse himself after he came.

Finding out about Ruby was his breaking point. He flew at Sam, pushing him into the floor, fingers digging hard and deep into the flesh of his arms as he held them above his head. While his body lay cold in the ground and his soul was being tortured in hell, Sam was fucking a demon and drinking her blood. He was gonna kill her, gut her with her own knife, but first he had to know.

“You love her, Sam?” he asked, deadly quiet, barely above a whisper.

Sam didn’t struggle against his painful grip, looked startled but not actually scared. He should be scared, Dean thought, he should be fucking terrified.

“I- she’s a demon.” Sam said calmly, as if that answered the question.

Dean lifted Sam’s arms slightly, then slammed them hard back into the floor with a growl. “I know she’s a fucking demon, Sam!” he screamed, just inches away from Sam’s face. “I asked if you love her! Tell me.” His voice grew quiet again,but his grip didn’t let up. “Tell me you don’t love her.”

Sam studied his face for a moment, for what Dean wasn’t sure, but he must have found it as his expression softened, changing from startled confusion to understanding.

“No, Dean. I don’t love her. Only you.”

Dean pulled back, easing up the pressure on Sam’s arms, but Sam didn’t take the opportunity to get away, didn’t move at all except to follow Dean with his eyes. Eyes that strangely held no fear, even now.

“Sam.” Dean whispered, shaking his head as if to clear it. He pulled his hands away from Sam’s arms, only now becoming fully aware of the way he was straddling his brother, the proximity of their groins and the fact that he was half hard in his jeans and unless he was mistaken, Sam was too. He saw the bruises blossoming on Sam’s arms where he had dug his fingers in and wanted nothing more than to press on them until Sam hissed in pain while rocking his his hips into him.

He had to get away. He knew he wouldn’t stop once he started and he couldn’t- he couldn’t hurt his little brother like that, even though almost every fiber of his being was screaming at him to do it. He was frozen in place by his conflicting urges to protect and torture.

It was Sam who decided for him. Slowly and carefully, as though he was trying not to frighten Dean, Sam moved his arms down, gently placing his hands on Dean’s thighs.

“Only ever been you Dean. You were gone…but you’re here now. Whatever you need, I’ll give it.”

“Don’t- don’t say that to me.” Dean’s voice trembled. “You don’t know what you’re offering.”

“I don’t care.” Sam kept his voice soft and gentle, running his hands soothingly over Dean’s thighs. “I’m here for you. I’ll do anything, give everything, for you. Whatever you need from me, it’s yours.”

There was no way Dean could refuse. He pulled his knife out, noting how Sam didn’t even look at it, just kept his eyes trained to Dean’s. No fear or trepidation in those eyes, only love, and devotion. He leaned down, so close that he could feel Sam’s gasp on his lips as he ground their cocks together, pressing the tip of his blade just under Sam’s chin.

“I’m going to hurt you, Sammy.” he whispered.

“Okay.” Sam replied, as he thrust his hips back against Deans, catching his lips in a soft kiss just as he felt the first prick of the knife piercing his skin.


End file.
